


How To Begin, Continue And Resume

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1336426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minseok finds his life continuously punctuated by experiences and memories of Luhan, intertwining the two of them more times than he initially expects. Luhan is always a part of him, even when Luhan is out of his reach. But no matter what, Minseok would never change a minute of his time with Luhan — he would just pray for more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Begin, Continue And Resume

**Author's Note:**

> Written for deerbaozi on Livejournal for the EXO Relief Fund auction. The request was a fic based on the plot of the film Koizora. Deerbaozi: I've tried to follow the gist of the storyline and put my own twist on it. I really hope you like it. Thank you for choosing to work with me, and please enjoy!
> 
> (Content notes: Character death, terminal illness, suicide attempt. Side relationship Chen/Xiumin and negative mention of side relationship Kai/Luhan.)

Sitting on the ledge of this bridge with one leg drawn up to his chest, the other dangling over the edge with his shoe slipping forwards on his foot like it might fall, Minseok thinks he wouldn't even be preparing to jump if he'd never met Luhan.

Without Luhan, Minseok wouldn't be here right now. This isn't like him. He'd never do this kind of thing. But that's the thing about Luhan: Luhan makes Minseok do crazy things. Without Luhan, Minseok might've had a normal life. A stable career, a healthy relationship, maybe a family. He could've been happy, even. For a while, he came close. But the other thing about Luhan is this: even with all of that, even with Minseok here preparing to jump from the bridge into the cold water below, he would never rewrite history to erase one single minute of his time with Luhan. 

That's going to be taken care of for him when he jumps.

 

This all starts about three and a half years ago, when Minseok meets Luhan for the first time. He meets Luhan unexpectedly over the phone because of a party he wasn't invited to. It happens when some ridiculously drunk guy calls Minseok's number by mistake while trying to make a booty call to his ex-girlfriend, and manages to sexually harass Minseok for approximately thirty seconds before, from what Minseok can tell, the phone is snatched out of his hand. 

"Sorry, Victoria." The new voice is male, exasperated, and speaking Chinese. "I told him to lose your number fifty times already. Want me to kick his ass for you?"

"I'm not Victoria," says Minseok, because he isn't. There's a pause.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry." Another pause. "Who are you?"

"Minseok," says Minseok, because he is. "I think he called the wrong number. Unless some girl named Victoria is secretly using my phone?"

It turns out that no girl named Victoria is secretly using his phone. Victoria has a phone number that's only two digits off from Minseok's, and this is how he became the unfortunate victim of a drunken misdial. The voice that rescued Minseok from the creepy advances of the drunk misdialler belongs to Luhan, a Chinese university student who's just transferred to a school in Seoul.

"I go to university here too," Minseok tells him. "Do you know Seoul Institute Of The Arts?"

"I go there!" Luhan exclaims. "Maybe I've seen you around campus. Hey, we should hang out sometime."

"Yeah, that'd be cool," says Minseok, and that's how it all begins.

 

Minseok is not expecting Luhan.

Okay, so that's not fully true. He is expecting Luhan. That's the reason he's been waiting at the spot they planned to meet for ten minutes, even if it's hot and he's sweating and Luhan's running late and it's not any fun at all. What he's not expecting is for Luhan to be … who he is. He's not expecting Luhan to be the obnoxious football hooligan who he has always regarded as a nuisance.

"Minseok! Hey."

See, Luhan is annoying. He's a die-hard fan of football, especially Manchester United — this is fine, in Minseok's opinion. Football is a fun sport, and Manchester United are a good team. This isn't the problem. The problem is that Luhan is completely obsessed, as is his dedicated group of football hooligan friends. They stay up until whatever ridiculous hours they have to in order to watch matches, yelling and stomping and drinking until everyone who lives around them shrivels up with uncontrollable agony at the noise. They fill the hallways with their incessant chatter on the days before, during and after matches. They relentlessly provoke another group within the school, who are fiercely loyal fans of Chelsea. They're in and out of trouble for starting impromptu games of football all over the campus, usually in places which are completely inappropriate to do so. Not all of them are as mild-mannered as Luhan, and they've been known to stir up trouble for no apparent reason.

There's also the fact that once, during those impromptu football games, Luhan accidentally kicked the ball too far and whacked Minseok in the side of the head.

"Hey, Minseok? Minseok? Hey?"

Minseok snaps out of his thoughts. This was a terrible idea, he thinks. It's hot and he's sweating and now the guy he's meant to be meeting has turned out to be the obnoxious football hooligan who has previously bruised his head and caused him much irritation. And he's trying to think of some excuse — any excuse — to ditch Luhan and never come back, but then he looks at Luhan. Really looks at him, for the first time ever. Doesn't just catch a glimpse of him grinning and yelling in the middle of his group of friends, or triumphantly sprinting across the quad with a football towards the area arbitrarily designated as the temporary goal. Looks right at him and sees him.

Luhan's beautiful. He's really, really beautiful. Big brown doe eyes, little button nose, flawless skin, pink bow lips. There's a surprisingly gentle smile on his face, and the look in his eyes is almost eager as he tries to catch Minseok's attention. When he does, he looks very pleased.

"Oh, there you are. I thought you were going to spend the whole time in outer space."

Luhan laughs, and suddenly Minseok can't pay attention to anything but him.

 

Minseok and Luhan start dating pretty quickly. Minseok is surprised — this is very unusual for him. Not that they don't get to know each other; they spend hours talking about anything they can think of. They talk about big things like their dreams for the future (Luhan wants to be a footballer like Cristiano Ronaldo or a singer like Jaejoong), and small things like random stuff they find on the ground when they're walking across campus (Minseok found a piñata once). Luhan is extremely easy to talk to. There's never an awkward moment between them. So it just seems natural to agree when Luhan asks, "Want to date me?"

It's not too long before Luhan goes with Minseok everywhere. His group of friends, all a year ahead of him, have graduated; he doesn't seem interested in making new ones, and his family never visits. From what he's told Minseok, they never will. So he clings onto Minseok at every possible moment, holding his hand or dragging him around by the wrist or back-hugging him tightly and resting his chin on Minseok's shoulder. Minseok's always been a bit of a loner, not many friends of his own, and he doesn't mind Luhan's presence at all. It's weird, but as soon as he starts dating Luhan, suddenly everything feels brighter. He's happier. Having Luhan at his side makes him feel stronger. And he wonders if maybe this is what love is: when the person's simple existence can make life a tiny bit better, no matter what else is happening.

One day they're laying together on Luhan's floor, looking up at the ceiling for no apparent reason, when Minseok finally has to say it. "You know, before we met, you once kicked a football into the side of my head. I had a bruise there for a week."

Luhan's eyes widen, and his mouth opens in a little _oh_. "Shit. I'm so sorry. How much coffee do I have to buy you to make it better?"

"Kiss me instead," says Minseok, and he wants to groan because that's so fucking cheesy and he doesn't know when he turned into this suave and greasy creature but that's just what Luhan has turned him into. But Luhan loves it, so he finds he doesn't really mind.

Another time Minseok tells Luhan, "You know, I like football too. I used to play it back in high school. And I used to watch Manchester United matches a lot, but then I got too busy and stopped keeping up with them. But I've been thinking maybe I'd like to get back into it?"

Luhan's eyes light up with an uncontrollable glee, and Minseok realises he's just opened Pandora's box. But it's all worth it when he gets to rediscover his love for the game alongside Luhan, who picks him up and spins him around and kisses him hard on the mouth when Manchester United wins the first match they watch together. Luhan does it during every match after that, because they watch them all together. They cheer at the top of their lungs when Manchester United scores, yell angrily at the screen when the other team does and feel the rush of adrenaline that comes from waiting with bated breath to claim victory.

"I love you," Luhan tells Minseok, hugging him tightly around the waist after a round of post-match celebratory sex. "Do I tell you that enough?"

"You tell me all the time," Minseok answers truthfully.

 

Paradise doesn't last forever. No joy continues forever without interruption. Minseok was naive, so naive, to forget this — but he remembers, very suddenly, when he's slammed up against the wall of the dormitory hallway by a guy named Jongin who sat behind him in a music theory class last year.

"Luhan's still in love with me," Jongin hisses, right in Minseok's face. "I know you think you're the only one he loves, but I just want you to know he's not forgotten me."

"Yeah, right." Minseok raises an eyebrow. "And who are you again?"

It's not really a question. Minseok already knows. He recognises Jongin as one of the school's star dancers, the one entertainment companies are already all over. He also recognises Jongin as one of the group of Chelsea fans Luhan's group used to provoke into fights — and he remembers seeing the way Luhan and Jongin used to look at each other, how they used to linger near each other just a bit too long, how they sometimes snuck off together when they thought no one was looking even though the rivalry lines were drawn pretty clearly. Luhan must've really liked Jongin, Minseok always thought, if he'd actually sneak around to be with a hardcore Chelsea fan. 

But that's over now. Luhan doesn't see Jongin anymore. He doesn't text him or talk to him or even say a word to him in the hallway. A flicker of doubt crosses Minseok's mind, just for half a second, but he pushes it away. Jongin's obviously lying.

"I'm Jongin. Luhan's ex-boyfriend." Jongin looks even more pissed-off by the fact that Minseok doesn't seem even the slightest bit intimidated by him. "Did you know I'm his ex-boyfriend, or did he not tell you because he doesn't want you to know he still loves me?"

"No, he never mentioned you." Minseok narrows his eyes. "Maybe he didn't tell me because he didn't think you were important enough."

"Do you want me to kick your ass? Because I'll do it," Jongin growls, and shoves Minseok's chest roughly. "You want me to?"

"Okay. Go ahead and try."

Minseok's pretty sure he can take Jongin. Jongin's taller and bigger-framed and looks much stronger, but Minseok's been training in three different types of martial arts since he was a kid. He's not really a fighter — he prefers by far to keep the peace — but he's not going to let some fucker push him around and claim Minseok's boyfriend's heart belongs to him. He stares down Jongin for ten seconds, right in the eyes, and then Jongin glares and moves back from where he's got Minseok pinned up against the wall. 

"I won't kick your ass, but only because Luhan wouldn't want me to." Jongin's still giving Minseok the look of death, and for a second, Minseok really does feel afraid. "But remember what I said. And when he leaves you, don't be surprised, because now you know you've got it coming."

Minseok stands there in the hallway for a long time after Jongin leaves, his mind racing full of feelings but completely blank of thoughts. Jongin's clearly batshit crazy. Delusional from a broken heart. But he looked so serious and sounded so sincere that, just for a moment, Minseok wonders.

 

"Jongin's full of shit." They're sitting on Luhan's bed working out the rhythm of the song Luhan's writing for class when Minseok finally blurts out the question, and Luhan just laughs. "I've not talked to him in months. Hell, I almost forgot about the guy. I'm not sure how that translates in his delusional head as loving him."

"He seemed really serious," says Minseok, and he hates how insecure he sounds but he really needs to know. "He said he wanted to tell me that you're going to leave me."

"Bullshit." Luhan puts down the notebook and his pen, scooting closer towards Minseok so he can nuzzle his neck. It wrinkles the sheets. "I'm not going to leave you. I like you too much. But if you really need me to prove it, I can glue myself to your side."

"That's okay," Minseok says, very quickly, but pulls Luhan into his arms anyway. "Promise you won't leave me for some crazy guy who ambushes your boyfriend in dark hallways?"

"I promise." Luhan kisses Minseok's cheek, then whispers in Minseok's ear. "You're way better in bed than he was. How could I leave that behind?"

Well, when he puts it like that, Minseok believes him.

 

Funny how Minseok believed him.

 

Five months after he promises Minseok he'll never leave him, Luhan disappears. He vanishes into thin air. Minseok wakes up one morning and Luhan is gone, leaving behind not a single trace.

Minseok unravels the mystery slowly, piece by piece, each new bit of information he gathers leading him progressively along to the horrifying conclusion. He discovers that Luhan's dorm is empty, all his things missing. He discovers that Luhan has dropped out of all of his classes. He discovers that Luhan is no longer enrolled in the school. He discovers that no one knows where Luhan is, not even Jongin when Minseok gets desperate enough to hunt him down and ask. He discovers that Luhan's phone number has been disconnected, his Weibo and his Cyworld are deleted, and his email bounces back all messages because the account has been cancelled. He discovers, gradually, that everything that was once part of Luhan's presence is gone.

No one knows where Luhan went, or why he left, or how to reach him. No one knows anything, and neither does Minseok.

Minseok wakes up that day, five months after Luhan promised Minseok he'd never leave him, and it's almost like Luhan never existed.

 

Minseok falls apart. Usually, he's strong; he never cries, he keeps his emotions in check, he doesn't break down over things to the point where he can no longer live his life. But this time, that doesn't matter. This time, Minseok is in pieces.

Months go by, and he doesn't remember them. Two months, three months, four months, it all blurs together. He goes on with his life — life doesn't stop for heartbreak — but he's not really present. He's not there. His mind is in shock, unable to accept that Luhan is gone and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it. Unable to accept that he might never get Luhan back. Unable to accept that, despite his promises, Luhan left him. Unable to accept that, even worse, he might never know why.

 

More time goes by. Six months, seven months, eight months, and things are slowly starting to come into focus. Events are starting to spread out so that he can recall glimpses of them that don't fade away into the haze. Slowly, everything becomes more and more clear. He comes back into his life little by little, day by day. For eight months nothing mattered, but finally, after nine months, that changes.

Minseok graduates university, and it matters. He gets a job — nothing special, just something entry-level with mediocre pay, but it matters. He gets his own place, a small one-room flat in a semi-inconvenient location without many material comforts, and this matters as well. Things that aren't Luhan begin to matter to him, and every day it gets a bit better.

It hurts. He doesn't forget — he can't forget, when once every part of his life contained a little bit of Luhan — but as time goes by, he learns to fill his life with other things. He learns to open himself to the world of possibilities that comes with his new degree, his new job, his new home. It still hurts, but as time goes by it gets better.

 

Minseok's not meant to be in the bookstore he runs into Jongdae in. He's not meant to be there aimlessly shuffling through some books on food photography, which he has absolutely no interest in. He's not meant to be standing in a shop that's filled with more dust than customers, used books stacked all the way up the walls and piled on chairs all throughout the narrow aisles, each worn-out spine plastered with an orange sticker that marks the book at a fraction of the original price that he still can't afford. He's not even meant to be on this side of town.

Minseok's not meant to be here, but he forgets all about that when he looks up briefly from the glossy page of pictures of artfully sliced tomatoes and his eyes meet Jongdae's. They stay there without ever looking back down at the tomatoes. Jongdae's flicker down at them, then back up.

"Food photography, really? You're standing in the middle of a poetry bookstore, and you pick up the one book that has no words."

"I actually didn't notice," Minseok says, for a reason he doesn't quite comprehend. And then, for another reason he doesn't comprehend, this is the start of him and Jongdae.

 

 

Jongdae is a lot of things that Luhan wasn't. For example, Jongdae has a voice that was made to steal spotlights and he uses it at every chance he gets. Jongdae sometimes wears thick-rimmed glasses that he won't ever quite say if they're real or not. Jongdae's wit is sharper and more pointed than Luhan's, a bit meaner, but somehow funnier. And Jongdae will never let Minseok drag him outside to kick a football around with, but that's alright. Minseok doesn't feel much like playing anymore.

Minseok doesn't feel much like watching anymore, either. He tries half-heartedly to keep up with Manchester United's league standing and catch a match every now and then, but he just can't get into it like he could before. Every goal scored doesn't fill him with the same jubilation, and every goal conceded doesn't fill him with the same despair. He doesn't yell loud encouragements at the computer screen when Van Persie's sprinting down the pitch towards the net, evading everyone he can, so close to a goal he can almost feel it. He doesn't growl in frustration when the livestream lags. Somehow the most he can muster up is a vague feeling of satisfaction or disappointment at the end of a match, depending on the result, and it fades away almost as soon as he closes the livestream. It doesn't stick with him like it used to, leaving him walking on clouds or slogging through mud for several days afterwards.

He wonders how much of that euphoria and agony before was just picked up from the omnipresent exuberant aura of Luhan.

Minseok pictures Luhan sometimes. It's stupid, but he does. He sees Chicharito poach a beautiful goal from just outside the box, and pictures Luhan jumping up off his chair pumping his fist in the air and yelling in triumph, _yes yes yes_!. He sees the opposing team score an admittedly very skilful penalty shot and pictures Luhan groaning, smacking his head repeatedly into his hands as if this can clear away his memory of the shame. He imagines Luhan cheering and twirling around the room after every victory, and slumping off into some corner to inconsolably sulk after every loss. He imagines Luhan going on just like before, his feelings unchanged towards this ritual that was once, for just a fleeting two years, theirs. Because he's not pathetic like Minseok, who can no longer enjoy anything that was once enhanced tenfold by the shared experience with Luhan.

Eventually, Minseok stops protesting when it's 4PM in England and he's halfway considering turning on a livestream when Jongdae decides to drag him off to watch some foreign film. He just sighs in some resignation that he doesn't really mean, then links his fingers together with Jongdae's and tries to pretend he's awake as Jongdae offers some very insightful commentary about _blah blah blah_ and _blah dee blah dee blah_ all the way through the stupid un-subtitled French indie film. Sometimes, he dozes off and has the kind of strange dreams that can only be caused by several outside influences combining. And sometimes, he dreams of a person — whether it's Luhan or Jongdae, he can never tell.

 

It's weird, the way the human mind will focus in on the most random little things when it's in shock.

There's an eyelash that's caught on Sehun's cheek when he says, "Luhan told me not to tell you."

There's a small splotch of something that might be miso soup on Sehun's shirt when he says, "He didn't want you to know."

There's a little freckle on Sehun's arm that Minseok's never noticed when he says, "He said it was because he loved you."

 _Of course_ , Minseok thinks he says, _of course_. He thinks he says it reasonably, but he gets the feeling that he probably said it with some kind of stunned, sardonic tone and a slightly hysterical laugh. He infers this mostly because of the way Sehun's looking at him and the way he imagines his reaction would probably be, because he doesn't hear the words and noises coming from his own mouth. _Of course he would know what's best for me_.

He finally hears his own voice when he says, "Of course he wouldn't tell me that he was dying of cancer."

Right there in the middle of the grocery he coincidentally ran into Sehun in the middle of, he's losing it. He's shaking. His voice is rising. And this is not like him, this unreasonable breakdown thing, but that's what's happening. He doesn't know if he's making a scene, but he's not about to look around and see. It's weird. He thought he'd cry, or maybe fall to the ground, or maybe pleadingly beg for an answer to _why_. None of this happens at all.

He just says, "Of course he wouldn't give me the chance to say goodbye."

Because Luhan always wanted to protect Minseok, didn't he. He would do anything. Up until the point where that protection hurt Minseok more than that dangerous thing ever could.

Up until the point where he would leave Minseok without an explanation, without a clue, without anything, just so that Minseok wouldn't have to watch him die.

Up until the point where he never even considered asking Minseok if leaving him might hurt worse.

 

Everything's telling Minseok he's crazy. Everything feels like a small move further and further down the spiral of a total loss of self-control. Every fastening and unfastening of the plane seatbelt, every nervous flip through the pages of his passport, every glance at the clouds out the window feels like an uncontrollable act of daring. Because these are all tiny pieces that make up the larger picture of exactly what the hell he's doing — calling in sick to work, packing enough clothes for two weeks, booking a last-minute flight to China and racing to the airport to make it. Leaving behind the job he was just promoted at, the house he carefully decorated, the boyfriend he just broke up with, the perfect repaired life he built for himself, just to race to the possible deathbed of the man he somehow still loves.

This isn't like Minseok, not at all, but that's what Luhan does to him. He makes Minseok do crazy things.

 

Luhan doesn't look anything like Minseok remembers. Of course he doesn't. It's been years, and the illness has so thoroughly consumed him in the time Minseok was away. His soft blonde hair is gone, his skin is pale and nearly translucent, he looks thin and worn and so unlike the vibrant jokester that Minseok once knew. But his eyes are the same — they might be tired now, but they're still determined despite everything. When Minseok meets them with his own, he knows that none of those changes matter.

"Hi," Minseok says softly, like he's unsure of whether he might startle Luhan or bother him or annoy him or whether he might just ruin the moment by bursting into tears. "Remember me?"

"Come here," Luhan says with the slightest smile, then when Minseok's close enough, Luhan flings his arms around him.

Minseok can feel so many of Luhan's bones beneath his thin hospital gown, but he doesn't let go for a long, long time. His arms are still around Luhan when he pulls back so he can see Luhan's smile again. "I would've stayed."

"What?"

"I would've stayed with you until the end. I would've spent every moment I could with you and loved them, no matter what. It would've hurt, but it would've hurt less than knowing I could've had more time with you but I lost that chance. And now I can never get that back."

"I'm sorry." Luhan's tired eyes are filled with tears. "I'm sorry. I thought you'd never find out. I wanted you to just move on without having to see this." 

"It's too late," Minseok says, and they both know he means more than one thing. And because he can't help it, he asks, "How long … how much time … until …"

Luhan shakes his head, and Minseok's question is answered.

 

Their last week together is beautiful. With only a week left, Luhan knows there's nothing more that can be done; he requests to be discharged from the hospital and taken back to his apartment where he can spend that last week peacefully. Minseok stays by his bedside constantly, trying his best to make up for lost time. They can't do much, not with Luhan's condition the way it is, but they do as much as they're able to. They talk about everything and nothing, until Luhan's too tired to reply and lets Minseok do all the talking. Minseok tells him stories and reads him books, and sometimes he sings Luhan one of the songs he used to compose before the strenuous requirements of daily life got in the way. He brings home a small potted flower for them to take care of, and Luhan smiles every time he wakes up from his frequent naps and sees it. They watch a football match together, and they cry together as Luhan watches his team — their team — win for the very last time. They take a hundred pictures together so that Minseok will never forget what every single one of Luhan's facial expressions looked like or how they made him feel.

It was everything Minseok wanted out of the years they could've had. But all too soon, Luhan gets too tired to open his eyes at all.

 

That brings Minseok up to the point where he is now. Sitting on the ledge of the bridge, one leg drawn up to his chest, the other dangling over the edge with the rest of him ready to fall. Luhan's last beautiful week was Minseok's too. It was beautiful, but it's over now, and Minseok is ready to go.

He never would've pictured himself doing this. And he never would've done it, if it wasn't for Luhan. Luhan makes Minseok do crazy things, things that aren't like him at all, but Minseok wouldn't take any of it back. He promised Luhan he'd stay until the end, and he did, but now Luhan is gone and there's nothing holding Minseok back from jumping off this bridge. He's willing to do it if it means he can be with Luhan again.

There's a letter in the pocket of Minseok's jacket. Luhan handed it to him on the third day of their last week together and told him, "Don't read it until I'm gone." There were so many times Minseok could've read it, but he saved it just like Luhan wanted. Slowly, reverently, he takes it out of his pocket and unfolds it.

_Minseok!! I miss you already. I know I'm not alive anymore, but that doesn't mean I still can't miss you. Trust me._

_I'm glad you came back. I'm glad you forgave me. I'm glad I got to have this time with you, even if it wasn't much. But most of all, I'm glad you're alive. There's a lot of things you have to do. You have to get another job that really makes you happy and find someone else to love you for the rest of your life. You have to cheer on Manchester United for me and compose more songs so you can sing them at my grave — you'll come visit me, right?_

_Anyway, I miss you a lot. Read this letter at least a couple more times so you don't forget. I'll see you again someday, when the time is right, but for now you have a lot to do._

_Still gratefully missing you,_

_Luhan_

 

Minseok can't breathe.

He's sitting here on the ledge of a bridge, looking down at the cold water below.

_You'll come visit me, right?_

He's got one leg drawn up to his chest, the other dangling over the edge with his shoe slipping forwards on his foot like it might fall.

_For now you have a lot to do._

All his muscles are tensed, all his nerves are buzzing, every part of his body is thrumming with the adrenaline rush of preparing to jump.

_I'm glad you're alive._

It happens gradually, second by second. The adrenaline drains from his body, little bits of energy escaping out of his veins until there's nothing but blood flowing placidly. He tilts his foot to slide his shoe back onto it, then lifts his leg back up over the ledge. He lowers the other one from drawn up to his chest. And slowly, very slowly, he gets down from the ledge. He sits down beneath it, safely on the bridge, and cries.

Without Luhan, he never would've been about to kill himself in the first place. But somehow, Luhan managed to save him. Even after he was gone, somewhere far away, Luhan brought him back. And it hurts so much, thinking of life without Luhan, but suddenly he sees in clearer focus what life really is. Life is a chance to experience new things for the ones he's lost, and to fulfil dreams that would make them proud. It's a chance to hold onto their memories for company until it's finally his time to go. And it's a chance to make sure that, when he finally sees them again, he has lots of stories to tell.

Minseok would never rewrite history to erase one single minute of his time with Luhan. Letting go of life would be letting all of that go. So he folds Luhan's letter up, tucks it into his pocket and gets back onto his feet. Thinking of all the things ahead of him, he smiles.

_I'm glad I'm alive too._


End file.
